Regina Sings The Blues
by SunflowersAndHoney
Summary: AU. SwanQueen. Emma Swan's enthralled by the gorgeous brunette onstage. She never believed in love at first sight until she laid eyes on Regina Mills singing the blues at The Rabbit Hole. One-shot. No magic.


_**Title**_: _Regina Sings The Blues_

_**Author**: _**Desi**

_**Summary**_: AU. SwanQueen. Emma Swan's enthralled by the gorgeous brunette onstage. She never believed in love at first sight until she laid eyes on Regina Mills singing the blues at The Rabbit Hole. One-shot for now. Possible multi-chapter. No magic.

**Disclaimer: If I owned Regina Mills or Emma Swan... oh, the naughty possibilities.**

_A/N: This is the product of me and my girlfriend going to a jazz house. So many SwanQueen feels. Also, I've used the song Lillie's Blues (Turn You Loose) by Valarie Pettiford. This is also the first time I've ever written in present tense and also my first ever OUAT fanfictin. I hope you enjoy._

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_Saturday, The Rabbit Hole, Storybrooke, Maine, 9:27PM_

"Been waiting long?" A seductive voice asks over the 1920's-style microphone.

A man shouts, "Yeah, too long, baby!", from a table in the back of the dark, smoky jazz lounge.

A smirk from the brunette onstage. A jazz quartet begins to play a slow, almost melancholy tune. Blood red lips part. The whispered sound of a breath intake.

_I give you love even though you cheat and lie_

_I can't give you up, everyday I try and try_

_I wait around, even though you rarely call_

_I cry and cry, hollow as the teardrops fall_

_But through it all, I can't turn you loose_

Emma Swan's mouth drops open. Up until now she hasn't been paying attention to anything except drowning her demons in whiskey.

_But now._

Now, she's looking towards the stage, her greens eyes darkening to a dangerous emerald. The brunette on stage is captivating; flawless, in Emma's book, really. She radiates a sultry confidence, obviously well aware that she has captured everyone's attention in the room. But her eyes, Emma notices, are home to sadness, loneliness. Something Emma knows all too well.

_Ooohhh!_

_See my heart_

_Isn't whole_

_And inside_

_I'm so, so cold_

_I've been out_

_Out of my mind_

_Gonna turn _

_You loose_

_Loose_

The last word shoots easily from the brunette's lips in a falsetto and it hits the blonde directly in the heart.

Emma watches as hazel eyes land on her; a familiar look settles in the brunette's eyes. She doesn't have time to analyze it because the stage is suddenly shrouded in darkness. Catcalls, whistles, and applause sounded loudly in the room, but when the spotlight is turned back on, the brunette is gone. A pang shoots through the blonde's chest and she turns back to her drink, swallowing the remnants of the dark, harsh liquor.

"Another double," she requires of the barkeep.

"You got it, blondie."

She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the nickname she's become accustomed to hearing. She finds she's able to overlook it when the short, grumpy bartender places the tumbler of whiskey in front of her.

"Drinking to forget or to numb yourself?" A sensuous inquiry comes from the right of the blonde.

"Is there a difference these days?" Emma responds, raising the glass to her lips. Looking to her right, she is stunned to see the brunette gracing a sticky bar stool. Emma can't help but think how out of place she looks. Close up, the songbird appears tired, and her eyes are glazed over a bit; a telltale sign that she's had a few drinks already. But when she smiles at Emma's reply, her entire face lights up and the blonde understands why every man in the room is drooling.

Shrugging one smooth, naturally tanned shoulder, the nameless woman chuckles. "I suppose they are." Without asking, a mug of hot tea is placed in front of her, a lemon wedge and two small packets of honey on the side.

Emma raises an eyebrow. "Should I ask to buy you a real drink?"

"I suppose you should ask my name first." She wraps the tea bag around the spoon and squeezes the remaining water into the ceramic mug.

"Alright, what's your name?"

"Regina." She offers a small hand. Emma shakes it.

"Emma."

"Lovely name for a lovely woman."

"Royal name for a queen." Emma responds.

Emma is well aware of the surprise on Regina's face. More likely than not, she didn't think Emma would know that the name 'Regina' literally translates into 'queen'.

"I'm impressed," admits Regina.

"It's one of the only things that stuck in Latin class." Emma is completely unsure why she's openly admitting so much to this woman that she just met and certainly knows nothing about.

"Ah, so you were a Catholic school girl, then?" A pink tongue snakes across a smirking bottom lip. "Just like a fantasy."

A chill runs down Emma's spine. She grins back. "You're awful saucy for a woman who's only drinking tea."

Regina shrugs again. "What's the point of beating around the bush in life?" A tilt of her head as if she's considering what she has just said. "Except for maybe a little fun in bed."

The next gulp of whiskey goes down the wrong pipe and Emma coughs. "You're bold."

"Well, who notices those who are timid and shy." Regina sips from her tea, reveling in the smooth, warm liquid. "Weak."

And Emma's unsure if Regina is talking about the tea or timid people. But it doesn't matter, she's too excited to hear the next words out of the brunette's mouth, but also a smidgen terrified.

"So, which are you, Em-ma?" Regina mockingly pronounces both syllables in the blonde's name. "Are you the lion or the lamb?"

"Neither." Emma quips, drinking the last of her whiskey. "I'm the one who created them both."

"A god complex, then." Regina laughs. "I like that."

"So, what's your story, Regina?"

"Ah, you'll have to buy me that drink before I tell you that."

Emma taps the bar, grabbing the attention of Grumpy (as she'd nicknamed him in her mind). "The lady needs a fresh drink." Sizing Regina up, she decides, "A hard cider if you have it."

Raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, Regina nods approvingly. "How did you know?"

"I used to profile people for a living."

"So, you've got me all figured out, have you?"

"Actually, no. In all my twenty-eight years of life, you're the one person I can't nail down."

"Well, you haven't asked politely enough."

Once again, Emma is nearly lost for words. And before she can answer, Regina's drink is placed in front of her, her half-drank mug of tea removed.

"All I know is that you're an incurable flirt who uses her wiles to distract other people from steering into a more serious conversation. Naturally that means you keep people at a distance, but under the guise of pulling them close. Physically, I mean."

Regina clears her throat and her eyelids flutter. The blonde was spot on. Although, the brunette would never admit that. Still, it intrigued her that Emma could know so much in only seven minutes of conversation. Enough to want to keep her around longer than one night.

Maybe she'd break the self-proclaimed spell of loneliness that Regina was so used to feeling. Perhaps this Emma will be her White Knight.

"Would you like to come back to my house for a nightcap, Emma?"

Emma feels her body heat with the invitation; not in a sexual manner. Not completely, anyway. Her heart warms, her soul thaws, and a few barriers tumble down.

"I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
